


Forbidden Fruit

by Lusciousinpain



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Adult Dean, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Cocky Castiel, Construction Worker Dean, DO NOT DO THIS, Fluff, Jealous Castiel, Jealous Dean, Lonely Dean, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Promiscuous Castiel, Rutting, Sibling Incest, Student Castiel, Unsafe Sex, Voyeurism, adults are oblivious, cumming untouched, fifteen year old Castiel, hand lotion as lube, self hate, super-smart Castiel, teens are wise-cracking and horny, unless you're Dean and Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-24 17:17:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17708402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lusciousinpain/pseuds/Lusciousinpain
Summary: Now, with an unobstructed view of both the front and backyard of his new neighbor's house, as well as an eagle-eyed view of the older man's bedroom (thanks to a massive skylight) Castiel stands in front of his own bedroom window, pants off, fingers curled around his prick, beating-off fast and furious, while the Adonis next door bends, stretches, and hammers away, on his new house.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now, with an unobstructed view of both the front and backyard of his new neighbor's house, as well as an eagle-eyed view of the older man's bedroom (thanks to a massive skylight) Castiel stands in front of his own bedroom window, pants off, fingers curled around his prick, beating-off fast and furious, while the Adonis next door bends, stretches, and hammers away, on his new house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of plot 
> 
> A bit of porn
> 
> Some angst and schmoop 
> 
> An exercise in pace and tempo, some abstract imagery 
> 
> Picture a 40ish Dean, handsome, rugged, lonely because he fights his depraved urges...
> 
> Enter Castiel, fifteen years old (Misha with long hair, streaked with blond highlights) lonely in his own way, and the rest just writes itself. 
> 
> Hope you like it!

Castiel's bedroom is in the attic of his family's house. But the vast expansive space is more of a beautifully fitted suite, rather than a cramped and dusty room the name implies. It's lofty and decadent, but he's earned this luxury - with good grades and relatively good behavior, Castiel's parents remodeled the entire floor to his specifications as a reward for his consistent honor student status, despite his rebellious nature. 

Now, with an unobstructed view of both the front and backyard of his new neighbor's house, as well as an eagle-eyed view of the older man's bedroom (thanks to a massive skylight) Castiel stands in front of his own bedroom window, pants off, fingers curled around his prick, beating-off fast and furious while the Adonis next door bends, stretches, and hammers away, on his new house.

Castiel achieves multiple orgasms each night this way, first from watching his neighbor as he works, then from watching him while he masturbates. The sight makes Castiel impossibly aroused: the older man pulling on his dick, foundling his balls, inserting his fingers in his ass, and Castiel's fist picks up speed, greedy for those fingers, eager to be filled and fucked by his neighbor, then cumming when his neighbor cums, and wishing he were there to lick him clean.

And that's how it's been for the past two months: Castiel waiting for the older man (Dean, his name is Dean Winchester) to arrive home from work, then locking himself in his bedroom, standing in front of his window, and jerking off. And sometimes Castiel is alone in his room, and sometimes he has company. And sometimes it's his own hand stroking his cock, and sometimes it's a friend's. And sometimes there's kissing, or soft lips sucking him off, their undeniable enthusiasm (coupled with the sight of Dean masturbating) quickly pushing Castiel over the edge, cumming with Dean's name on his lips, and always hoping that one day soon, the older man might return his feelings.

...

Of course Castiel has tried (on several occasions, in fact) to introduce himself to his new neighbor. But each attempt has failed, thwarted by the presence of a nosy neighbor, or one of Dean's fellow coworkers suddenly showing up. Even Castiel's own father has foiled a perfect opportunity for him to meet Dean a time or two.

But if Castiel is being honest, it's his own cowardice that has kept him from approaching Dean and introducing himself.

_'What if Dean rejects me?'_

_'What if he doesn't, but then uses me?'_

_'What if Dean doesn't want me the same way I want him?'_

Castiel doesn't think he could bear it: to be used and abused by Dean, fucked raw, then tossed out like so much trash. 

No, it's definitely best they never meet. And for Castiel, far safer.

...

The Novak house is probably the nicest house in the neighborhood, and the family, from what Dean has heard, very well-to-do, yet down-to-earth, and very welcoming. But nevertheless, he was surprised when he received an invitation to their annual 'Fourth of July' barbecue. He'd only just move into the area, after all, and barely knew anyone. Sure, he's traded nods and 'hellos' with plenty of people, including the Novaks, but he hasn't really interacted with any of them. 

But that's not the only reason he's reluctant to go; he can't afford to spend an entire day socializing, when he should be working on his house, instead. Still, he doesn't want to alienate his neighbors, either. On the contrary, Dean wants to get to know them better, because he likes it here, and wants to grow roots here, so to speak. 

So he accepts the invitation, because it's the smart move, and who knows, maybe if he's lucky, it won't be a waste of time. Maybe he'll finally meet that 'special someone' at the party. That fantasy person with whom he can grow those 'roots' he's so desperately missed his entire life. 

Dean smiles to himself at that, but he knows it's unlikely; his fantasy partner is just that, a fantasy - unreal, unrealistic, and a dream that will never come true. _Can't_ ever come true. Not if he wants to stay out of prison. 

... 

Dean follows the 'Party This Way' signs lining the Novak driveway (arms weighed down with beef patties and beer) and enters their property through the backyard entrance. And as advertised, the Novak grounds are impressive - large, professionally manicured yard with a massive in-ground pool, and a very large crowd milling about. Thankfully, there are more familiar faces than not, so Dean doesn't feel too intimidated. 

"Dean!" 

Dean hears his name and looks for the source. "Hey Jim!" He calls back, his own smile mirroring his neighbor's. "Thanks for having me-"

"Please," Jimmy says, cutting Dean off with a wave of his hand, "we're thrilled you could join us." He pushes plates aside on the large buffet table to make room for Dean, then whistles when he sees what Dean has brought. "Hey," he cries out, genuinely excited, "I see we like the same brand of beer." He grabs two bottles, pops the caps off, and hands one to Dean. "Cheers." He says, clinking bottlenecks. 

"You have a great place." Dean comments, taking a long pull from his bottle, adding with a grin, "Pool's awesome." And he couldn't mean it more, because it's sunny and hot and the pool looks deep and cool and he can't wait to jump in. 

"Well then," Jimmy says, "go grab a towel and try her out."

Dean nods, spots a large basket brimming with thick fluffy towels, then remembers the container he's brought full of raw beef. "We better get these on the grill first." He says, because it's a ridiculously hot day, and they'll spoil quickly if left out in the sun too long.

"You're right." Jimmy agrees, reaching for the container and peeling back the foil. "Oh. My. God!" He gives Dean two enthusiastic thumbs up. "These look amazing."

Dean's cheeks bloom pink and he shrugs. "Just burgers-"

"Maybe to you," Jimmy scoffs, sniffs, then beams, "but for your information, burgers are my son's favorite." He scans the crowd for his son then calls him over. "Castiel, get over here!"

Several teens look towards Jimmy, but only one looks directly at Dean.

"That, that's...your son?" Dean stammers and Jimmy nods, a proud father oblivious to his neighbor's unusual reaction. But Dean's sudden and unhealthy attraction to the teen can't be helped - with too blue eyes lit brightly by the sun's rays, shoulder length hair highlighted with streaks of amber, and a long lean body just begging to be bent over, Castiel is, for lack of a better word, perfect.

"Be right there!" Castiel calls back, dropping his eyes, and Dean can breathe again.

"Whoa, where are you going?" Jimmy asks, grabbing onto Dean's arm to keep him from escaping.

Dean gapes, stares at Jimmy's hand, looks up, and gulps, because it's too late. "I, ah, I need some...tongs?" 

_Lame!_

Jimmy laughs, but not unkindly. "Don't you worry." He assures Dean, but doesn't let go. "We have everything you need." He looks over his shoulder, and there's Castiel. "Cassie, come say 'hi' to Mr. Winchester." Jimmy motions for his son to join them, then turns back to Dean, drops his hand, and jokes, "My boy is going to be eating out of your hands when he sees what you brought over."

Dean nods, because yeah, that sounds like a great idea; the boy on his knees, lips parted, tongue poking out to taste, to lick, to wrap around his dick, and suck-

A tap on the shoulder and Dean nearly spills the rest of his beer. "Sorry, what?"

"I said," Castiel smirks, composed now that the initial shock of seeing Dean up close for the first time, has worn off, "it's very nice to meet you." But his smirk quickly turns into a genuine smile; Dean Winchester is even better looking up close, and the immediate connection he felt pass between them, thrills him to his core. "You know," he says, stepping right into Dean's personal space, grinning smugly when the older man's breath catches, "burgers are my absolute favorite." He brushes a bare arm against the soft cotton of Dean's T-shirt, presses his hip snugly against Dean's groin, and nearly swoons when he feels the beginnings of an erection. "Do you want help grilling them?"

"Of course he wants your help." Jimmy says, tone amused, grabbing his beer, and pointing to the crowd. "But on second thought, why don't you go ahead and grill the burgers for us, Cassie, I want Dean to meet the guys-"

"No!"

Jimmy freezes, frowns at Dean, "No?"

Dean winces; he can't believe he shouted. "I mean, I'd like to grill these babies myself. They um, they need a delicate touch." He looks over at Castiel, licks his lips, "But, ah, maybe Cas, I mean Castiel...can stay and help?" 

A smile returns to Jimmy's face, and he nods. "Of course." He wags a finger at Castiel, "Castiel is a great little helper, Dean. He knows how to follow orders. Right, Cassie?" 

"Yes," Castiel smiles, replying to his father but looking straight at Dean, "I am excellent at following orders." He reaches out, and with his hand carefully blocked from his father's view, wraps a finger around Dean's belt loop, and tugs, "Don't worry dad," he throws his father a grin, mischievous twinkle in his eyes, "I'm going to take very good care of Mr. Winchester."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I can't believe we never met before today." Castiel comments, conversational, casual, like he didn't have one hand on Dean's beef patties, and the other, boldly brushing along his crotch. "And you've already been here a whole month?"

Dean thinks, no, Dean _knows_ , Castiel is flirting with him; the boy's intentions (firm grip on the waistband of his jeans) couldn't be more blatant.

"I can't believe we never met before today." Castiel comments, conversational, casual, like he didn't have one hand on Dean's beef patties, and the other, boldly brushing along his crotch. "And you've already been here a whole month?"

 

"It's actually been two." Dean corrects, just as conversational, just as casual, despite the obvious erection tenting his jeans.

Castiel nods, acts surprised, "Well then," he says, smile growing wide and all knowing, "it seems like we have a lot of catching up to do. Would you like that?"

"Yeah." Dean replies, heart thudding thickly, its booming beat drowning out everything but the boy in front of him. "I'd like that a lot." He gulps, because it's true. And not just because he's lonely and Castiel is interested, but because he's already fallen for this beautiful boy. But as hot as Castiel is, and as willing as he appears to be, Dean needs to tread carefully here; fucking the neighbor's underage son has 'bad idea', written all over it. "Actually," he exhales, dialing it back several notches, "I don't think we-"

"How about tonight?" Castiel cuts in, hidden hand cupping the older man's dick, thumbnail teasing the zipper's teeth. "Just the two of us." He presses closer, smiles up at Dean, achingly seductive for a boy of fifteen. "We can go to my room. It's the attic, but big and comfy, and very private. Or we can meet at your place..."

This is wrong, and Dean knows it. But instead of doing the right thing (like pulling away and getting the fuck out of there) he presses into Castiel's touch, checks to see if anyone is watching them (no one is) then finds his voice, and whispers, "Yeah...to all of it."

So much for treading carefully.

But Dean couldn't mean it more, with his whole heart and soul, he couldn't want this precious child more. But flirting is one thing, what the boy is suggesting is insane, dangerous, and Dean can't allow it to go any further. "You know," he sighs, tone full of regret, pained, but it's the right thing to do, "it's not a good idea...us hanging out alone. You're just a kid, and I'm old enough to be your-" 

"My name is Castiel." Castiel drops both hands, takes a step back, and the temperature dips twenty degrees. "Not, _'kid'_."

"Sorry." Dean replies, the apology slipping out on automatic. He's unsure what the hell just happened, but Castiel's transformation (and the clear cut menace in his tone) is so thrilling and downright delicious, that Dean's dick literally jerks in his pants. "Look, kid, I mean, Cas, I _am_ sorry-" And Dean is, because life is too short, and if this beautiful and receptive boy wants to waste his time flirting with a pathetic old man (like Dean) then by God, Dean will take what he can get.

"Forget it." Castiel shrugs, cold and indifferent, heart in tatters, and turns away.

"Wait!" Dean's arm shoots out. "Don't go." He pleads, words louder and sharper than intended, but the music is thumping and the chatter is at a high pitch, so no one hears him, but Castiel. "I didn't mean what I said. Okay." 

Castiel stares at Dean's hand, at the way the older man's large and powerful fingers dig into the wiry muscle of his bicep, and incredibly, leans into the touch. "You didn't mean it?" He asks, wondering if his neighbors's change of heart is because he's only after a quick fuck, or if he's finally realized Castiel is offering more. "And you're sure you want to hang out with me? Alone. Just the two of us?"

"Yes." Dean swears, and the air around them charges. "I would _love_ to hang out with you." He pulls the boy closer, brushes his lips across the teen's temple, a hot breath against delicate skin. "Just the two of us."

"Okay." Castiel whispers back, eyes sparkling, a lustful glint in their blue depths. "If you're that eager," he says, placing his smaller hand atop Dean's, squeezing with the slightest bit of pressure, "then how about we start now?" 

Dean nods, and Castiel turns for the house. Dean waits a beat, scans the yard once more, sees they remain unnoticed, then follows close behind.

...

Luckily for Dean there's no one in the kitchen, or the entire house for that matter, when he creeps inside. "Cas?" He calls out softly, spotting the teen just as he disappears into another room. Dean jogs after him, but stops right outside the door. It's ajar, so he opens it slowly, peeks inside, and stops breathing.

"Oh, sweetheart-" 

The teen is standing in the middle of the room, swim trunks puddled around his ankles, tweaking a nipple between two fingers, while dragging his other hand past the narrow slip of his waist. "Get over here." Castiel says, and in three quick strides Dean has the naked boy in his arms. But the momentum knocks Castiel back, and they stumble towards the bed, grunting when they fall on top of it. 

"Fuck-" Dean swears, biting bright at the boy's throat. "You're so hot." Dean can't get over this boy, how hot he's making him, how lost and foolish. "You got me all twisted up inside." He says, the admission seared onto tender flesh, tongue dragging from clavicle towards that damn tempting nipple and latching onto it, sucking on it with the ruthlessness of a starving man, and Castiel arches into the assault. "I've dreamt about you" Dean whispers, taking a breath, a much needed drag of air.

And Castiel gasps, "You have?" Sounding so pretty and so surprised, and Dean nods, grinds his clothed erection against the boy's prick, and Castiel spreads his legs wider, cradling Dean. "Me too." He confesses, because he has. Castiel has dreamt about Dean, about this, about them, since before they met.

"Really?" Dean asks, in awe, hope battering away at his poor beaten heart. And Castiel nods, smiles, small and adorably bashful despite being completely naked beneath Dean, his young body spread wide open for the older man's pleasure. 

And it's a gift surely, what the boy is freely offering, at least that's how Dean sees it, so he doesn't question it. He braces himself on his elbows instead, hikes his shirt to his chest, pushes his jeans below his ass, and pulls out his dick. It's rigid and hot and he rubs it like a slow tease against Castiel's length. "So beautiful..." He says, soft and worshipful, wishing with all of his heart he had the time to slowly pull an orgasm from the boy.

But he doesn't.

"We gotta hurry." Dean says instead, aligning their bodies, the new angle presses their dicks together, and he rolls his hips, tiny figure eights that generate the right amount of friction, the perfect kind of heat. "You feel so...good-" Dean pants, so hard and needy, grinding and grinding and pumping his hips, eager thrusts while licking past the boy's lips. 

And that's it for Castiel.

Back bowing, toes curling, fingers denting the hard muscle of Dean's ass, Castiel cums, spurts semen allover himself, allover Dean, and Dean curses, because he's coated in the boy's warm jizz.

"Jesus-" Dean grunts, hips locking, dick pulsing, mingling his own cum with the boy's, and wishing he were dead, because he should be dead, because this should never have happened. But it did, and he could die like this, because it's more than he could have ever hoped for: the best sexual experience of his wretched life, the most exciting partner he's ever been with, and the best orgasm, ever.

Ever.

...

Limbs tangled, coated in sweat, covered in cum, Dean and Castiel kiss, they grind, a slow and sensual dance, and it's the best, and it's the worst, because instead of satiating his depraved desire to be with this ruinous boy, the contrary has happened; this brief sexual encounter with Castiel, has only made Dean greedy for more.

More. 

More. 

More. 

"Cas," Dean is still stupidly aroused despite just having orgasmed, "that was awesome," he sighs, mouthing his claim against the boy's shoulder, fingers tracing lazy circles on damp flesh.

"Yes." Castiel hums, turning in Dean's arms. "It's was." He agrees, nuzzling at Dean's jaw, the scratch-scratch of stubble reddening his mouth, pulling a contented purr from the older man. And they're touching everywhere, dragging curious hands across the dips and valleys of sweaty skin, between the hollows of cum coated limbs, and then Castiel's legs part, and Dean's fingers travel lower. "Want you in me so bad." Castiel begs, hitching hopeful hips against Dean's dick, and Dean growls, because that sounds like a great idea. 

"Fuck yeah." Dean grits, voice gone all raspy. "Me too." He says, fingers finding their way to Castiel's hole. "Gonna fuck you so good." Dean promises, prodding at the teen's pucker, finger slipping in quickly, easily, and Castiel starts begging, hips pumping because he wants more than just Dean's finger.

And Dean is so ready for this, so desperate to fuck and fill this boy that he throws caution (as well as good sense) out the window, lines himself up, presses the blunt head against the tight furl, and-

"Castiel!"

Both men freeze, cling to each other for a thundering heartbeat, then Castiel curses, drops his legs, and Dean springs, races into the adjacent bathroom.

"Damn it." Castiel hisses and climbs off the bed, movements stiff from being bent in half, grabbing his swim trunks, and joining Dean in the bathroom. "It was my mom, but somebody called her and she went back outside." 

"That was a close call." Dean replies, peeling his shirt off and throwing it in the sink.

"What are you doing?" 

"What does it look like I'm doing?" 

"Why are you washing your shirt?"

"Because there's cum allover it." 

Castiel snorts, drops a kiss on Dean's cheek, and Dean grins, because even though he looks like a complete mess, he feels great, and Castiel looks gorgeous, and well fucked, and Dean will gladly go to hell for him.

"Aren't you cleaning up?" Dean asks, admiring Castiel's thoroughly disheveled state. 

Castiel shakes his head, 'no', turns off the faucet, and wrings Dean's sopping shirt. "Come with me." He grins, pressing another kiss against Dean's lips. "I have a better idea."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amelia hums, nods along with a forced smile, because something seems...off. The intensity with which Dean regards her son is...unsettling, almost intimate for two people that only just met.

"Castiel!" 

"Yes, mother?"

"Where have you been? I've been calling you-"

"I've been here. In the pool."

"Castiel, you were not in this pool. I've looked for you-"

"Well then," Castiel huffs, infuriatingly composed, "you must have been looking when I was inside getting our new neighbor a pair swim trunks to borrow."

"Hmpht." Amelia Novak is no fool, but she nevertheless drops the matter; it's impossible to win an argument with her son when he's obviously trying to hide something. "Fine." She concedes, scanning the pool for Dean. "So where is he?"

"He's right there, swimming towards us." 

Amelia sees Dean approaching and smiles, bends low, and offers him her hand. "Hello, Dean." She says, warm and inviting, her earlier irritation with Castiel already forgotten. "Welcome to our home." 

"Thanks for inviting me." Dean smiles back, shaking her hand, and feeling more at ease now that he's rinsed away the proof of his and Castiel's earlier debauchery. 

"Why were you looking for me?" Castiel speaks up, terse with his mother because he's frustrated at her interruption; he was hoping to get one good ride on Dean's massive dick before rejoining the party. 

"I want you to go tend to your friends." Amelia snips back, her tone full of warning.

Castiel huffs, "Can't you ask Gabe-"

"Your cousin isn't here yet. And I'm not 'asking' you, Castiel, I'm telling you-"

"But dad told me to help Dean."

"Dean?" 

"I mean...Mr. Winchester." Castiel huffs again, a dramatic exhale, exhausted with his mother and eager for this tedious exchange to be over so he can get back to focusing on his budding romance with the older man.

Amelia harrumphs, studies her son's glower a beat longer, then turns her attention back to Dean. "Dean, thank you so much for the burgers. But I hope you don't mind, I've gone ahead and asked Jimmy to grill them for you."

Dean nods, because what else can he do. Jimmy grilling is great, if it means he gets to play with Castiel in the pool. But one look at Amelia, and Dean gets a sinking feeling that's not what she has in store for either of them.

"But Mr. Winchester-"

"Please," Dean smiles, eyes locked on the pouting youth, "call me Dean. Mr. Winchester is my dad."

Amelia hums, nods along with a forced smile, because something seems...off. The intensity with which Dean regards her son is...unsettling, almost intimate for two people that only just met. But Amelia dismisses her concerns almost as soon as they cross her mind. Dean is new to their town, there's no possible way he and Castiel could have met before today. "If you're sure." She says, foolishly convincing herself that the disturbing tension between the older man and her immature son, is all in her imagination.

Dean chuckles, "Yeah, please call me Dean."

"Okay..." Castiel smirks, grabs an armload of water, "...Dean." Then splashes Dean in the face.

Dean stumbles back, arms flailing, but quickly recovers. "What the hell?" He grins, long lashes dotted with water, treading closer and warning, "You're gonna be sorry for that." His voice is low and full of menace, and the timbre shoots a thrill up Castiel's spine. "I'm much bigger than you are, Cas, and stronger, and-"

But Castiel cuts Dean off with another splash, bigger than the last, full of challenge, and Dean lunges.

"It's on now!" Dean cries out, grabbing Castiel by the waist, hoisting him high in the air, then dumping him in the deep end. They both laugh, and Castiel sinks under, with Dean diving after him. They meet at the bottom, hands reaching for the other, then Dean's fingers find Castiel's waistband, and he yanks the boy closer, takes his hand, and when the need to breathe can no longer be ignored, they shoot for the surface, break through as a pair, panting for air, swapping playful threats, ignoring everyone around them, because they only have eyes for each other.

"Cassie."

Castiel climbs onto Dean's back-

"Castiel?"

-sits on Dean's shoulders-

"Castiel!"

-and Dean grabs onto him, grips the boy's muscular thighs-

"Castiel Novak!"

-then dumps him when he realizes Amelia has been calling her son for the last several seconds.

"Yes, mom." Castiel spits out water, glowers.

"Go. Tend. To. Your. Friends." The command is clipped and final. "I'm not asking you again."

"But-"

"But, nothing." She bends at the waist, covers her mouth with her cupped hand, and hisses, "I think your girlfriend is drunk."

"Girlfriend?" That gets Dean's attention, and a tight knot settles in the pit of Castiel's stomach. "You never said you had a girlfriend."

"Meg is not my girlfriend." Castiel grits, aiming his ire at his mother, furious she's upset Dean. 

"Dear lord," Amelia huffs, rolling her eyes, "don't tell me you're back again with that dreadful Hannah."

"Mother!"

"Oh forgive me, sweetie. Is it Michael again? Or his twin Luke?" Castiel sputters and Amelia throws her hands up, "Honestly," she tuts, completely unimpressed with her son's dramatic overreaction to simple facts, "Castiel, I can't keep up with your love-life." 

But Castiel ignores his mother, tries to get Dean to meet his eyes instead, but when he does, Castiel's heart sinks. There's pain in the green depths of Dean's eyes, betrayal, shock, and Castiel rushes to explain, "Dean, my mother doesn't know-"

"Shush," Amelia interjects, dismissing her son with a pointed look, and addressing Dean, "Excuse my son Dean." Then to Castiel she adds, "Mr. Winchester has no interest in who you're dating, Castiel." Then Amelia kneels near Dean, and in her most conspiratal voice whispers, "Dean, I have a few friends that are just dying to meet you."

"What?" Castiel barks, scowling because he knows exactly to whom his mother is referring. "Dean has no interest in meeting any of those desperate-men-hungry-" 

"I'd love to!"

"What?" Both Amelia and Castiel ask the same question at the same time and Dean scowls.

"I said," Dean says, replying to Amelia, but looking at Castiel, "I'd love to meet your friends." He snorts, shakes his head, "I could use some friends right about now." But the words taste bitter on his tongue, like bile in his throat, and he grimaces.

"You can't mean that." Castiel tells him, cautiously wading closer. 

But Dean is hurt and humiliated and hates himself and his own depravities. "Dead serious." Dean replies, planting his hands on the deck and hoisting himself out of the pool. He reaches for a towel, but doesn't dry himself off. Dean knows he's good looking, downright 'eye-candy' when he's wet, and if Amelia wants to pimp him out to the hungriest bidder, then it's best he look as fuckable as possible. "Let's go." He tells her, water cascading down his chiseled chest, dew drops making his lashes appear darker, the green of his eyes more vibrant. 

Amelia beams and Castiel growls. But she either doesn't hear him, or just ignores him. "Oh you're going to just adore these ladies." She tells Dean, waving to a throng of attractive women huddled closely under the shaded deck. "And who knows," she gushes, leading the way, "maybe today is the day you meet you're true love."

Beside her Dean falters, gulps, because he's afraid he already has. But he quickly regains his composure, grins at his adoring crowd, amps up his charm to dazzling levels, and zeros in on several considerable distractions.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Awww," Meg coos, brushing damp bangs from Castiel's brow, "you and your 'soulmate' break-up already?

"Will you please tell your mother to stop giving me the stink eye."

"..."

"Cassie?"

"..."

"Earth to Castiel."

"...!..."

"Cassie!"

"What? What? What?" Castiel slides off his float and swims away from his nagging friend, but Meg just rolls her eyes, and swims after him.

"What's gotten your speedo all in a bunch?" She snarks, climbing out of the pool, grabbing two towels, and throwing one at Castiel.

Castiel climbs out and starts drying off, but he doesn't answer her. Instead, he heads straight towards the grill, glares at the beef patties nestled snugly in their warmed over buns, and his stomach grumbles; they smell heavenly. 

"Awww," Meg coos, brushing damp bangs from Castiel's brow, "you and your 'soulmate' break-up already?"

Castiel shoos her off, plops down on the nearest chaise, then lays back, throwing his arm over his face to block out Meg's taunts. "Dean is _not_ my soulmate." It's a depressing admission, and his heart breaks a little. "Or at least he doesn't want to be." 

Meg "A-hems." Mutters, "You don't say." Then mumbles something about rescuing Dean before he's devoured by Amelia's ravenous friends.

"He wanted to meet them." Castiel mutters back, morose, despondent, turning away from Meg's voice. "He wants one of them. Not...me. Not me."

Meg "A-hems." Again, then leans in and says into his ear, "Is that why he can't take his eyes off of you?"

Castiel drops his arm and shoots up. He looks for Dean, meets his eyes from across the yard and offers him a smile, small but hopeful. But when Dean returns his smile with a frown, a chill races up Castiel's spine, and he drops back down, legs splayed, feet touching the ground, and shivers despite the balmy weather. 

"Wanna make him jealous?" Meg grins, red lips curling provocatively at the corners. And Castiel nods (upset and not thinking straight) pulls Meg into the tight circle of his arms, props her tiny body on his lap, and accepts her kisses, one after another after another.

...

 

Dean knows Castiel owes him nothing, that he was just another notch on the boy's bedpost (one of several, if the ladies surrounding him are to be believed) a distraction, a toy, a prop. 

But still, how could he be so cruel? So cold? 

How could Castiel act like he and Dean didn't just give themselves completely over to the other? Rut themselves stupid until cumming all over one another, swearing vows afterwards, making promises, sealing their shared devotion with a kiss, with their bodies, their hearts, their souls...

Just how?

Easy. Because it was all a lie, at least as far as Castiel is concerned, and Dean could kick himself for being so gullible. But the boy seemed so earnest, so sincere at the time, and Dean fell for it, fell for Castiel.

And now, all Dean can do is stare. He can't help but stare. But he'd be lying if he said watching Castiel fool around with his girlfriend didn't sting. Because it does. Like a sonofabitch.

"Dean."

Castiel looks so blissed out, too, so hungry for her.

"Dean?"

His long limbs stretched out on the poolside chaise, a pretty girl in a barely there bikini perched scandalously on his lap, their skin warm, sun kissed, and Dean seethes.

"Um, Dean?"

Her young ripe body with all of the right curves bent familiarly over Castiel's, her perky breasts brushing against the flat planes of the boy's bare chest, red lips licking past the seal of his mouth, red tipped fingers tangling possessively through his long unruly locks-

"Dean!"

"Huh?" Dean stares over at Amelia, fish-mouths, "Ah...huh?"

"Are you alright?" She asks, putting down her drink and taking a closer look at Dean. "Lisa," she calls, putting her hand over Dean's brow, "does he feel feverish to you?"

"Let me check," Lisa volunteers, replacing Amelia's hand with her own, and leaving it there far longer than necessary. "You are a bit warm." She tells Dean, locking her big brown eyes to his pretty green ones.

"Heh," Dean smiles, because how could he not, Lisa is beautiful. "I'm okay, just..." He looks around the yard, searches for inspiration, for something to say that will make sense, but comes up short. 

"Since when are you a doctor?" A very attractive redhead asks, non-to-gently pushing Lisa aside, placing her own hand over Dean's forehead, and with all of the subtleness of a starving jackal, asks him, "Why don't you come over to my place for a more _thorough_ examination?" 

Dean gapes, blushes, but then Amelia is tugging at his arm, the one the redhead (Abbadon, her name is Abbadon) is not clutching, and he couldn't be more grateful. "Yeah?" He asks, looking to where Amelia is pointing, and nodding along.

"Amara just arrived." Amelia states, giddy with excitement. "You're just going to love her. She comes from the oldest family in town. She's practically royalty." Amelia laughs, pulls Dean away from Abbadon and steers him towards the lawn, waving to a very pretty brunette as they walk. "Dean," Amelia says, introducing Dean to the newcomer as if he should be impressed. " _this_ is Amara."

But Dean is more interested in the two handsome boys by Amara's side, so instead of addressing Amara, he stupidly says, "You two must be Michael and Luke." His tone is wry, but there's no humor in his eyes 

The boys, indifferent at first, regard Dean with real interest and offer him a smile. But just like Dean, there's no warmth in their eyes. 

"These are my sons." Amara states, brow furrowed, turning to introduce her boys despite the warning bells going off in her head. "The dark haired one is Michael." She points to the brunette that has already wandered off, and adds, "The blonde is his twin, Luke." 

Dean takes note of each, watches keenly as Michael hoists Meg off of Castiel, only to see his twin settle in her place. Then the blonde places a kiss on Castiel's cheek, while Michael leans in close, too close, and whispers something in Castiel's ear. Dean bristles at the sight; he needs to leave now, or risk doing something monumentally stupid. Well, more stupid than what he's already done. 

"Anyway," Amara continues, trying to get Dean's attention, "I'd love to have you over for dinner some time." 

"Yeah, sure." Dean replies, distracted, too fixated on the teens and their antics to notice how rude he's behaving.

But Amara and Amelia have noticed.

Luckily his stomach decides to rumble just then, and the tense filled moment, breaks. 

"Dean," Amelia cries, her tone relieved, "you're hungry!"

Dean isn't, at least not for food; there's no way he could hold anything down right now. But nevertheless he joins Amelia and Amara at the buffet table, lets Amelia prepare him a dish, and politely nods along to their chatter, all the while surreptitiously keeping an eye on Castiel and his growing throng of admirers.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And with all of the laughter and screaming, the hard splash of bodies diving or being dunked, Dean steals too many glances, and suffers bitterly for it. He can never unsee what he's seen: Castiel and Meg. Castiel and Michael. Castiel and Luke.
> 
> It's torture, and Dean wishes he could scrub the images from his mind.

It's torture, this whole damn fiasco, pure torture. 

Focusing on mundane chit-chat, stomaching bland food, feigning interest in overtly flirtatious neighbors, while trying to tune out the boisterous laughter coming from the pool. But it's an impossible task, ignoring the spectacular spectacle of ripe teens exploring the limits of their blooming sexuality. And with all of the laughter and screaming, the hard splash of bodies diving or being dunked, Dean steals too many glances, and suffers bitterly for it. He can never unsee what he's seen: Castiel and Meg. Castiel and Michael. Castiel and Luke. 

It's torture, and Dean wishes he could scrub the images from his mind. 

But then it gets worse (so much worse) when the twins push Meg aside, and take Castiel for themselves. Because Even though Meg is a pretty girl - sultry and downright provocative for someone so young - Michael and Luke are a whole other level of 'hotness'. They're the epitome of 'bad boys with faces like angels': good-looking, rabble rousers, that pass Castiel back and forth between them as if he were their own personal sex puppet. 

It. Is. Torture. And Dean can't get away from there, fast enough. 

So as soon as he's done making small talk with all of Amelia's friends (and promises each one to go over to their house for several separate dinner engagements) Dean excuses himself and races back into the house. Once inside, he heads to the small bedroom where this whole damn clusterfuck first began, grabs his clothes, and steps into the adjoining bathroom. There's a small window overlooking the pool there, and he immediately closes the blinds. But they only shut out the view, not the noise. 

"Just great." He exhales, head hanging low, plopping down on top of the closed toilet seat, and crumbling. Castiel has made a fool out of him and Dean hates him for it. "But it's my fault too." Dean mutters, rubbing roughly at his face, swallowing a deep breath, because as much as he'd like to lay all of the blame on Castiel, he can't; no one had a gun pointed at his head when he put Castiel's cock in his mouth. 

And oh God, what a cock. 

"I'm fucking pathetic." Dean grouses, crying on the inside, because he's gone and fallen hopelessly in-love with the teen. It's insane, and he knows it, because there's absolutely no future for him with the boy.

Another deep inhale, followed by a heart-heavy exhale, and Dean starts dressing, morose and muddle-minded, then freezing seconds later when he hears a chorus of loud laughter coming from the pool. He tells himself not to look, but nevertheless peeks out the small window, and immediately regrets it. The teens are splashing, jumping, diving, and fooling around with each other, with a laughing Castiel caught in the middle. And as crazy as it seems, Dean grows hard again, just from watching. 

"Ah, fuck." Dean curses, because seriously? After everything Castiel has put him through, his dick goes ahead and betrays him too? Dean snorts, because yeah, being disappointed at himself is nothing new. "Okay." He tells his dick, pulling it out and slathering it with lotion. "Just one more time." Then he screws his eyes shut against reality, starts stroking himself, and fantasizies about Castiel.

Young.

Beautiful.

Perfect.

Castiel.

Strong and lithe, effortlessly cutting through the water, climbing from the pool and walking towards Dean. "Dean-" he sighs, hungry and horny, and Dean grunts, fist flying faster because the boy is touching himself - chest, stomach, erection - his prick visible through the thin fabric of his trunks, the tip peeking over the elastic's edge, and Dean can almost taste him, the headiness and texture forever burned into his psyche. "...fuck..." He swallows, licks his lips, yearning and longing and so close now, on the precipice of another great fall, balls drawing tight, because he's almost there, almost, almost, almost-

"Dean?" 

Dean's eyes fly open and he bites back a cry. But his hand keeps working, drawing out bead after bead of pre-cum, pulling his orgasm closer and closer to the surface; there's no way he could stop now, not when the object of his twisted fantasy is standing right in front of him. "Cas." He pants, sucks in air, and Castiel locks the bathroom door, rushes to Dean's side, and wraps his own fingers around Dean's dick. 

Dean trembles, drops his own hand, bucks his hips, and gives the boy a kiss, full of heat, full of hunger, sinking his tongue deep, swallowing the boy's breath, taking and taking, while Castiel removes his trunks, and his prick springs free.

"Want you..." Castiel says, just as breathless, just as desperate, reaching for the lotion and bending over the counter. He coats his fingers with a large gob of the cream, and inserts several at the same time, twists them, pumps them, and Dean whimpers at the sight, hypnotized as the boy stretches himself. "Come on." Castiel hisses, heart racing, because he's ready. But then a beat passes, then another, and another, and the anticipation is killing him. "Please." He begs, reaching behind to spread his cheeks, and Dean can't resist any longer.

Dean growls, "Damn it, Cas." Grabs Castiel by the hips, presses the pad of a broad finger against his hole, and Castiel braces, because he's eager for this.

"Dean-" the boy sighs, needy and wanton, but Dean still hesitates.

 _'Cas is just a kid.'_ Dean reasons, struggling to do the right thing here. _'There's no way he know what he wants.'_

But then again...

Castiel obviously wants this too. His pretty cock is as stiff as Dean's, and with his ass perched high in the air, and a clear view of his glistening pucker, it's difficult to doubt that Castiel's desire is real.

_'So maybe just this once? No harm in that, right? A hard fuck to satisfy the boy, an awesome memory for me. A fantasy to pull from when I'm lonely, when I'm horny, when I'm old-_

"Dean?" Castiel looks over his shoulder, blue eyes lust blown and pleading, lips pink and puffy from kissing, and Dean stops thinking.

"Open your legs." He rasps, voice guttural, thick with emotion and arousal, and Castiel obeys, widens his stance, and Dean swiftly closes the distance between them, drapes his larger body over the boy's, and teases his hole with a lotion coated finger. "You're gorgeous." Dean marvels, dropping a kiss to the back of Castiel's neck, shoulder blade, all the while probing, stretching, and Castiel breathes in, exhales, pushes back, and Dean's finger slips in. 

"Yesssss..." Castiel groans, because finally. Back arching, hole clenching, he's never letting go. Then another broad finger joins the first, then another, then he feels a thick pressure, precise prodding, and Dean's dick pushes in. But it's big, too big, and Castiel cries out. "Oh my god-" he grits, he gasps, fingers knuckle-white around the sink's edge, "...move..." He pleads.

And Dean does. 

But slow.

Tortuously slow.

Dick buried as deep as it will go (groin flush against the boy's ass) Dean exhales a heavy breath, then slowly pulls out, pausing with just the tip still nestled inside, then starts the journey back in, but just as slow, just as controlled, because he wants to savor the moment, to memorize every delicious second he gets with Castiel. "God," he swears, head thrown back, "you feel so fucking good." And It couldn't be more true; Castiel is tight and hot, a scorching heat embracing Dean's dick, and Dean's restraint burns away.

A snap of hips and Castiel cries out again, but this time from pleasure, voice too loud in the small space. But Castiel doesn't care, he only hears the sharp slap of skin on skin, of Dean's labored breaths from behind, of the consistent pounding, a raging storm in his ears, and he's full, so full, and with his cock hanging hard and neglected between his spread thighs, and Dean's hands digging possessively into his flesh, Castiel quickly unravels. 

"M'cumming!" He warns, and it's too soon, but he's never been pounded so good, so hard, and he cums, sperm covering the cabinets, the floor, then he feels Dean lock up from the inside, grunt out his name, then wet warmth fills him. "Oh...fuck..." Castiel sighs, clenching around Dean, milking the older man's dick, and Dean groans, and his hips rock, and with Castiel in his arms, Dean spills everything he's got, gives it all to his precious boy

...

It's later.

Seconds later.

Bodies still locked, yet neither says a word.

Then...

"Cassie!"

"Fuck..." Castiel reaches behind, runs his hand along Dean's bare thigh, "We better go."

But neither makes a move to separate.

Then...

An urgent knock on the door, a growl of protest, and Dean finally pulls out. "Damn it." He curses, spinning Castiel around, pulling him close, and kissing his sweet, sweet, mouth.

"God damn it, Cassie, I know you're in there!"

"What the hell does she want?" Dean spits, recognizing Meg's voice and pushing Castiel away. 

"Meg?" Castiel asks, alarmed by the sudden coldness in Dean's mood. "Probably just to warn us." He reaches for Dean's face, and Dean grabs his wrist. 

"Don't." Dean warns, tone dripping with contempt. "Wouldn't want your girlfriend, or wait, is it 'boyfriends'', to think you're cheating on them with some old-"

"Dean," Castiel yanks his arm free, grabs Dean by the shoulders, and pushes him against the door, "they...we're, I mean," he exhales, shakes his head, because he's nervous and terrified he's gone too far, "what I'm trying to say is that I'm not with any of them." 

But Dean just snorts, curls his fingers around Castiel's forearms, and calls bull-shit, "Then how do you explain what I saw?" He sneers, nodding towards the window, "I saw you, Cas, with them. With _all_ of them. Kissing and grabbing at each other." Dean's chest is heaving now, because he's hurt, because he's humiliated, and his fingers dig painfully into Castiel's arms. But Dean's the one in the wrong, here. What he's done 'to' and 'with' this boy, is depraved and illegal in all states, and if he had an ounce of self-preservation left, he'd beg Castiel to forgive and forget this shit between them ever happened, and leave.

But Dean's a sick-piece-of-shit, and in too deep at this point to simply stop wanting Castiel. "Damn it." He hisses, reeling Castiel in and kissing him again. But it's bitter-sweet, at best, and it serves Dean right, because he's a coward, because he's pathetic. But if fleeting moments of pure bliss wrapped in blinding grief (and always in the most inappropriate places) is the best he can hope for with this bewitching boy, then he'll take it. 

"I'm so sorry..." Warm, soft, lips return kiss after kiss from Dean's insistent mouth, "...I never meant to hurt you." A cool hand wipes the heat from Dean's feverish brow, "And I swear, there are no-"

"Hey!" A loud shout, followed by even louder banging, and Dean and Castiel jump apart. "Come on," Meg calls, tapping an impatient beat against the wood. "Put your dicks away and let me in." 

"Give us a minute." Castiel hisses through the wood. 

"Okay," she snorts, tap, tap, tapping, away, "but just so you know, I'm not the only one that knows you're in there." 

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you're mom is on to you, genius."

"Damn it-" Castiel says, blocking the door while Dean cleans himself up. 

"And she's also looking for your hot new neighbor." 

Castiel meets Dean's alarmed gaze and his heart drops; the older man has finished dressing and looks like he's about to panic. Or worse, leave.

And that just won't do. 

"We gotta get out of here-"

"No." Castiel snaps, blocking the exit with his naked body. "We need to talk first." 

"Outta my way." Dean says, but he doesn't move from his spot by the sink. He doesn't dare move any closer to Castiel.

"No." Castiel counters, jaw set, hips jutting, cock swinging. "I need you to listen to what I have to say." He's begging because this is far from over; he and Dean still have several issues they need to resolve before they can part. 

"Cas, please move. Or I'll...I'll,"

"Or you'll what?" Castiel challenges, daring Dean, charging at him and backing him up against the wall. "Huh?" 

"Cas, we-" 

"Quick!" Meg hisses from the other side of the door, rattling the knob. "Open up, your mom's coming!"

"Hide." Castiel tells Dean, pushing him into the shower stall, pulling on his trunks, and opening the door once Dean is safely hidden from view. 

"You said you'd cover for me." Castiel growls, rounding on Meg. 

"Yeah," Meg smirks, unconcerned, "I did. But that was an hour ago."

"It hasn't been that long."

"You wanna bet?" Meg sniffs the air, fans her face, grimaces, "Christ, how much fucking did you two do?"

"I don't know what you mean-"

"Seriously?" Meg strides right past him and stops just short of the shower stall, arm raised to draw back the curtain. 

"Don't!" Castiel warns, and Meg pauses, grins, then shrugs. 

"Fine." She huffs, pointing an accusatory finger at Castiel, then announcing in an unnecessarily loud voice, "But next time you wanna fuck your neighbor in your parent's house-"

"Castiel?" 

A sharp intake of breath from the shower stall. 

A snicker muffled behind a cupped hand. 

And Castiel clears his throat. "Yes mother?" He says, short and curt because her timing couldn't be worse.

"Open this door." Amelia snaps back, just as short, but with much more menace. "I've been looking for you every where!"

"Well, you obviously didn't look everywhere, or you would have found-"

"Castiel!" Amelia slams her palm against the door, shouts, "Watch how you speak to me, young man!" She twists the knob and the door swings open. "Of course," she huffs, eyeballing Meg, disappointed, "you're with Meg, why am I not surprised?" 

Meg just smiles in reply, drapes an arm across Castiel's shoulder, and shrugs, "Why, who'd you expect?" 

Amelia shakes her head and tsks, takes in her son's disheveled appearance, and frowns. "I expected better, Meg. I expected better-"

"Mother," Castiel is eager to be rid of both women so he can fully focus on Dean again, "why were you looking for me?" 

Amelia pins him with a steely glare, then exhales dramatically because she's just as eager to get back to her party. "Frankly Castiel, I'm appalled at your behavior."

"My behav-"

"Hannah is absolutely devastated."

"Hannah?" 

"Yes, Hannah. I know I'm not her biggest fan, but there's absolutely no need to rub your relationship with Meg in that poor girls face."

Meg laughs at that, a hearty bark of pure delight, and Castiel exhales in relief; this means his mother doesn't suspect Dean, and their secret is still safe. 

"I don't think this is funny." Amelia gasps, hand to her chest. "Not one little bit."

"Is that why you came looking for me?" Castiel asks, so anxious to be alone with Dean again, he actually bounces on his feet.

"Well, if that's not reason enough," Amelia replies, closing the door for added privacy, "then how about the sad fact that your scandalous behavior has also scared away our new neighbor."

This time, much to Amelia's chagrin, both Castiel and Meg laugh. "Well," she snips, gazing at her own reflection and touching up her hair, "come on then. Get back outside and-"

"I'm actually thinking of taking a nap," Castiel lies, face blank and expressionless.

"Now?" Amelia asks, and Castiel nods. "Fine." She exhales, and Castiel smiles, a reflex for this unexpected miracle. "But only after you go over to Mr. Winchester's house and apologize for scaring him away." 

"You, you want me to go over to his house?" Castiel asks, biting his lip to keep from grinning.

"And what on earth is so amusing now?" 

"Ah," Castiel wipes the grin from his face, and blurts, "I'm hungry." It's another lie, but his mother believes him, and mercifully backs off.

"Well, it's your own fault." Amelia says, wagging her finger, but then she smooths her son's hair with the palm of her hand, presses a small kiss to his cheek, and smiles, "Come, I'll make you a plate. You too." She tells Meg. "But I want you to head right over to Mr. Winchester's house and apologize as soon as you're done. Have I made myself clear?"

Castiel nods, because _'hells yes!'_ , face bright with unexpected joy. "Yes, as soon as I'm done, I'll go right over to De-," he gulps, shares a look with a smirking Meg, "I mean, to Mr. Winchester's house, and apologize."


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Did Meg really know he and Castiel were together the whole time? And that they...fucked? Could it be that she really was covering for them? But that doesn't makes sense. She and Castiel are a couple. Right? Dean saw them together, very together, talking and touching like lovers do. "Fuck this." Dean grits, back to his senses, because it's all horse-shit.

Castiel tries to get his mother to go ahead without him (he still needs to do some serious damage control with Dean, before it's too late) but she refuses. Instead, she grabs him by the scruff and steers him out of the house, with a giggling Meg, following close behind. 

"Oh, wait a sec." Meg calls out to them, and they all stop. "I, ah," she winks at Castiel, "I forgot something inside." She nods at the house, and Amelia frowns.

"Hurry up, then." Amelia says, iron-like grip still on her squirming son. "I'll have a plate ready for you on the deck."

"Thanks." Meg's says sweetly, then races back inside.

...

 

Dean waits until he's certain Amelia has left, before daring to leave the relative safety of the shower stall. When the coast is clear, he steps from the shower, peeks out the small window, spots her talking to Castiel, and his heart sinks. He's conflicted, confused, has so many questions. Starting with that very odd exchange between Meg and Castiel.

_'What the hell were they talking about?'_

_'Did Meg really know we were together this whole time?'_

_'And that we...fucked?'_

_'Was she really covering for us?'_

But that doesn't makes sense. She and Castiel are a couple. Right? Dean saw them together, very together, talking and touching like lovers do. "Fuck this." Dean grits, back to his senses, because it's all horse-shit.

He stills, listens, doesn't hear anything, then quietly opens the bathroom door, checks to see if the room is empty, then stops short when Meg suddenly reappears. 

"Whoa there, good-looking, where are you sneaking off to?" 

"Ah, Meg, right?"

Meg 'phffts', walks right up to Dean, and sizes him up. "I don't get it." She states, shaking her head.

"What don't you get?"

Meg waves her hand at him, up and down his body, "I don't see what he finds so special about you." She says it with a sneer, derisive and unimpressed, and Dean sneers back.

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about." Then he steps around her, reaches for the bedroom door, but she calls him back.

"You're not leaving without saying good-bye to Cassie, are you?"

Dean snorts, fires back, "Bet he won't even notice I'm gone."

"God," Meg huffs, eyes rolling, wondering for the umpteenth time what Castiel sees in the old guy, "you're dumb." 

"What did you call me-"

"You honestly believe Cassie-"

"Cassie?" Dean rounds on Meg, mimics, mocks, and sneers with as much contempt as he can muster. "Is that what you call him? Huh? Bet he's got a pet name for you too." He's acting like a prize idiot, like an immature asshole, but he doesn't give a shit.

"Insecure much?" Meg laughs, because...wow.

"You, you're...insecure..."

"You know what," Meg keeps laughing, red tipped nail jabbing at Dean's chest, "you're not worth my time." She turns for the door, calls over her shoulder, "But for your information, just because Cassie's been around a lot," she pauses, smirks, because she's done being nice, "and I mean a _lot_ , he's never been in love before. Not once. Not even with me."

"Wait-" 

"What?"

"What about...the twins and that Hannah person. Cas ever been in-love with any of them?"

Meg laughs and Dean scowls. 

"What's so funny about-"

"Please," she scoffs, tone utterly serious, "Michael and Luke? Geesh, you really are blind."

"...?.."

"Come on, don't you get it?" Meg makes a d'uh face, waits for Dean to to catch up. But he doesn't. "Those two freaks only have eyes for each other, you dope. They're in love. It's why they let their mom think they're fighting over Cassie, so she won't find out her two precious little boys are fucking each other instead."

"...!!!..."

"Yeah, it's kinky..." She grins, sucking on her bottom lip, "but hella sexy, too."

Dean frowns, but he gets it. Those two kids fucking one another is not only hot, but downright sinful. "And...Hannah?"

"That bible thumper? Bleh, talk about pompous and holier-than-thou " A dismissive wave of her pretty hand. "Maybe Cassie did have 'feelings' for her. Once. But that romance petered out pretty quickly. Even old lady Novak isn't _that_ religious. So..."

"Heh...so, you mean, Cas was telling me the truth when he said he wasn't seeing anyone right now?"

Meg nods, yawns, bored and ready to get back to the fun. "Well," she claps, turning for the door, "I can see my work here is done." She takes the nob, grin wide and wicked, eyes dark and hungry, "Now it's Meg's turn. There's a very pretty boy I plan on riding as soon as-"

"Wait, I thought you and Cas-"

"I'm not talking about Castiel!" Meg opens the door, mutters something about being hopeless and pathetic, and Dean scowls, but he can't argue with her there. "I'm talking about Luke."

"But you said he and his brother, you know, only with each other."

"Guess I'm special." She smiles, eyes sparkling, thrilling at what's to come, "And Michael likes to watch, and orchestrate, he's a bit of a control freak."

Dean frowns again, but hey, at least it's not Castiel in the middle of that depraved sandwich. And right now, that's all that matters to Dean. That and the fact that Castiel was telling him the truth. 

"Well, I guess, ah, thanks, and...have fun."

Meg opens the door, smiles, "Oh, I'm definitely having fun." And Dean nods, because he plans on the doing the same thing, but with a far superior partner. "Oh," she adds, tone turning serious again, "one last thing." She looks Dean straight in the eye, unblinking and unapologetic, "You hurt Cassie, and I hurt you."

"Fair enough." Dean replies, but just as serious, because he's just as devoted to Castiel (even more so) than any of his friends. 

...

Castiel fucked up

"I fucked up."

A spattering of chuckles, a comforting pat on the shoulder, and Castiel drops his head in his hands. He's seated by the buffet table, untouched plate of food on his lap, surrounded by the Milton twins and his cousin Gabriel.

"What I miss?" Gabriel asks, helping himself to Castiel's plate.

"It seems Castiel has 'fucked-up'."

Gabriel rolls his eyes at Michael, "Not helpful." And asks Castiel, "How?"

"He finally got to meet his crush, miserably miscalculated his approach, and lost all hope of a 'happily-ever-after with him."

Gabriel whistles, "That true?"

A nod, a heavy sigh.

Another whistle, long and melodic, "Bro, you really did fuck up."

"I know, Gabriel, I said that already."

"Yeah, but like...like, in a tragic way."

"Eloquent as always." Luke quips, taking the seat next to Castiel's, putting his arm across the downtrodden boy's shoulder, and with his lips pressed against Castiel's ear, whispers, "You're always welcome to join me and my brother." 

It's a tempting offer, very tempting, but Castiel is past all of that. Being part of a threesome, or a foursome, or any 'somes', is not what he wants. Not anymore. What Castiel wants now is plain and simple monogamy. He wants commitment. He wants trust and loyalty and a future with one person that will love him. Only him. And he wants all of that, with Dean Winchester. And even though he's ruined everything between them, he's not about to make matters worse by saying 'yes' to Michael or Luke Milton. 

"Thanks." Castiel smiles, gently prying himself from the devil's grasp. "But no thanks."

"Suit yourself." Luke says, soft and seductive, locking eyes with his twin, but leaning further against Castiel. "The invitation is always open." He murmurs, dropping a hand on Castiel's bare thigh. "Both to you...and your beloved."

Castiel huffs, woeful and forlorn, "You have a better chance with him then I do at this point." He cards his fingers through his long hair, yanks at it, and sighs again, "I've ruined everything, he no longer wants me-"

"Oh, I wouldn't say that." Meg chimes in, plopping down on Michael's lap, and planting a kiss on his lips. 

"Meg!" Castiel cries, scrambling to her side. "Tell me everything." 

... 

 

Dean sneaks out of the Novak house undetected, this time using the front door to make his escape. But he feels like a real shit-heel for leaving without thanking his hosts. But stopping to thank them for the invitation, would be counter productive to his plans; he has a shit-ton of stuff to do at his place before his 'special' guest arrives. 

Thankfully, there's not too much to clean up. Truth be told, he doesn't even have real furniture, yet. Heck, he just finished installing all of the windows this past week. And all of the electric and plumbing, the week before that. Nevertheless, the construction should have been further along, by now. But there's only so much he can do working alone a few hours a night, and on the weekends. He'd definitely finish faster with some permanent help - an extra pair of hands that won't eat into his budget too much. An able body that would get things moving along at a steadier clip.

"Guess it's time I put out an ad." Dean mutters to himself, then inspiration strikes. "Holy shit." His head whips around, finds Castiel's bedroom window, and he longs, and he hopes, "Of course...Cas."

Yes, that's it, Dean will ask Castiel if he'd like to work with him. 

A thrill races up Dean's spine at the thought: Castiel helping him after school, on Saturdays, on Sundays, spending his free time with Dean, working side by side, they'd really get to know each other that way, learn intimate details, forge an unbreakable bond, all by spending so much quality time together. And then, once they've defined their relationship, and if Castiel wants to, of course, the boy can help Dean shop for furniture. He can help decorate the house, make it a real home for them both, like a real couple, because that's what they'd be, a solid partnership, and it's so domestic, and so achingly normal, so perfect...

 

"N'ah." 

There's no way a popular, outgoing kid like Castiel would sacrifice his precious free time to be with Dean. And to toil away on his house, no less. Dean snorts; it's unlikely Castiel would want any of that. At least not with him. But Dean's not complaining, he'll take what he can get, for as long as Castiel allows it.

...

After his talk with Meg (and his hopes soaring high) Castiel gathers up Dean's supplies from the buffet table, packs several burgers in a container (fuel for the marathon sex he plans on having) puts on his most surly and put upon expression, and announces to his parents, "I guess I'll be going now." 

"And where exactly are you going?" Amelia asks.

"Ah, to apologize to Mr. Winchester. Like you told me to."

Amelia sips on her cocktail, munches on a chip, in no hurry whatsoever to offer a reply. But then she does. "You can't go now."

Castiel's eyes narrow and his jaw clenches. "But," he grits, nails digging into his palm, " _you_ specifically told me I had to-"

"I know exactly what I told you." Amelia answers back, bristling from his tone. "And right now, I'm telling you, no. You are not going over there. At least not tonight. Dean has company, and you'd only be disturbing them."

"You're fucking kidding me."

"Castiel!" Both Jimmy and Amelia shout their son's name at the same time, share the same look of horror, of disappointment, and at Amelia's nod, Jimmy scolds, "We've been too lenient with you, Castiel, given you too much freedom."

Amelia continues nodding, adds, "We've indulged you, trusted you, shown you respect-" 

"And we expect the same in return."

They share another look, a silent conversation between a long married couple, then Amelia announces, "You're grounded, Castiel."

"What? Why? You can't-"

"Yes we can, and yes you are."

"You need discipline, Cassie, a firm hand to steer you to the right path-"

"What you need is a job, Castiel."

"Wha?"

"A constructive activity that doesn't involve your friends."

"You can't be serious!" Castiel fights back, digging in his heels and holding his ground. There's no way they're doing this to him. Not now. Not when he finally found 'the one'. The missing piece, his other half. "No." Castiel insists, firm, because he will not yield. A job will only rob him and Dean of what little precious time they would otherwise get to spend together. "I'll behave." He promises, pleads, changing tactics, "I swear. Just, please don't make me-"

"Castiel, we're not doing this to punish you."

"You're mother is right." Jimmy says, patting Castiel's hand. "You're getting a job for your own good. You'll thank us in the end."

"But my school work will suffer-"

"Nonsense." Amelia huffs, Castiel is an honor student, and intellectually unchallenged by his school. "You told us school is dull and easy. And boasted that you could get straight A's without even trying."

"It's called 'exaggeration', mom."

"Regardless," Amelia exhales, dismissive, ready to put an end to their discussion, "we've had enough of your lackadaisical attitude. You _are_ getting a job."

Castiel deflates, he knows he's lost the battle, but perhaps he can still win the war. "Fine," he smiles, shrugging as if he weren't dying on the inside, "I'll get a job. At the mall."

"Absolutely not!" 

"No way, son. You're working somewhere you won't be surrounded by your friends. That's the whole point of this."

"Then the movie theater?" Castiel suggests, already knowing what his parent's answer will be.

"Castiel, are you being obtuse on purpose?"

Castiel shakes his head, eyes wide and innocent, a perfect angel, "No mom." He tells her, all feigned sincerity. "But maybe I shouldn't get a job, after all" He's reasonable, helpful. "My friends are bound to follow me wherever-"

"I know!" Jimmy exclaims, snapping his fingers and cutting Castiel off mid-sentence. "Dean Winchester!"

Castiel sucks in a breath and his stomach drops. This is it, they've found him out. He's pushed his luck too far, and now his true agenda has been uncovered. "Dean...Winchester?"

"Sure. He has his own company, 'Winchester and Sons'. I bet you can get a job there." 

"You want me to work with Dean?" Castiel gulps, knees weak with relief. 

"Castiel," Amelia says, terse, parental, "how many times do I have to correct you. It's 'Mr. Winchester', to you." Then she picks up her drink and toasts to her husband's brilliance. "Honey, that's a brilliant idea." 

"Sure," Jimmy grins, mistaking Castiel's shock for dismay, "I'm sure his construction company can always use a strong pair of hands. And I bet Dean will be glad to have you." He ruffles his son's hair, tries to soften the blow. "You'll see, son, you can learn a lot from Dean. He'll be a good influence." He winks at his wife, and she smiles fondly in return. "Yes sir, Dean is definitely the kind of man I want mentoring our boy." 

It's as if Castiel can actually hear the heavenly host's trumpets blare in triumph, and though wingless, if Dean asked it of him, he could fly. 

"What are you doing?" Amelia suddenly asks, pointing at her husband's phone.

"Calling Dean." Jimmy replies, dialing the number. "It's still early. And there's no reason to wait-"

"No!" Amelia says, and Jimmy frowns. "He has company, honey. Call him in the morning."

"Oh," Jimmy sighs, pocketing his phone, "I forgot." He looks to Castiel, this time mistaking his son's sour expression with regret that he's getting a job. "You're not off the hook, okay, this is a done deal. I'm calling Dean first thing tomorrow. So if you want to tell your friends you won't be loafing around with them anymore, I suggest you do it now."

"And it's not like it will be forever, Cassie, only until you've proven to us that you've learned your lesson."

Jimmy nods, "Yeah, it's not forever. We'll reevaluate your grounding after..." He looks to Amelia, shrugs his shoulder, "...after a month's time."

"And we'll be checking in with Dean on your performance. So you better do as he says."

"I..." Castiel is speechless, gob smacked, dumbfounded, and the happiest he's been in...forever. "Yes," he breathes out, breathless, "I will do _whatever_ Mr. Winchester asks. I promise."


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's funny how awkward it feels at first, how they cautiously dance around each other, like any second now, one, or both of them, might implode with want, their hunger for the other, a ravenous beast, a greedy thing impossible to satiated.

Old habits die hard. Especially when they've served him so well. It's the reason he's here again, standing in front of his bedroom window, eyes locked on the scene unfolding just past the large French double doors lining Dean's living room: Dean and Amara. Amara and Dean. Dean laughing at something she's said, her hand cupping his jaw, thumb stroking the curve of his cheek, and Dean leaning in, meeting her lips, pursed and inviting, and kissing her. 

"Fuck!" Castiel curses, kicking a cushion, because Meg was wrong, he did fuck everything up, and he is too late. There's no forgiveness forthcoming from Dean, and it's no one's fault but his own: Dean's distrust, Dean's disinterest in him, his apparent interest other people, all of it, Castiel's fault, especially after the show he and his friends put on at the party.

Castiel throws himself on top of his bed, buries his head in his pillows, and screams, heartbroken, and so utterly lost now, he could cry. But Castiel is no quitter, and Dean belongs to no one but him. "To hell with this." He mutters, picking himself back up and grabbing his things. He's not done fighting for Dean (far from it, in fact) and if he needs to fight off every single one of his mother's desperate, pathetic, man-hungry-

A thunk from a car door closing, the roar of an engine, the scrape of tires on gravel, and just like before, hope flares white-hot in Castiel's heart. 

He races back to the window, sees Amara's car tearing away, and he fist pumps the air.

Now is his chance.

He just hopes Dean is willing to give it to him. 

...

"Sonofabitch!" Dean can't believe his shitty luck. "Damn it!" He kicks a chair aside (one of two he has in the living room) and it topples over. "Fuck-" he picks it back up, and sits down, grumbling the entire time about his great misfortune. "It's just not fair."

Not fair at all.

He was expecting Castiel when the doorbell rang. Because it should have been Castiel. But it wasn't. And if Dean had known who was standing on the other side of the door, he never would have opened it.

But he did open the door, and by pure reflex alone, invited his uninvited guest, inside. 

"Surprise!" Amara Milton had shouted, startling the shit out of Dean and waltzing right past him as if she owned the place. She took a seat, placed a hamper full of barbecue on the floor, and claimed she was there with an apology from Amelia. Dean didn't understand what she was apologizing for, at first, but then Amara pointed out Castiel's outrageous behavior at the party, and a silent rage settled sourly in the pit of Dean's stomach. 

_'How dare Amara talk shit about Cas?'_ Especially when her own sons were no great prize. Talk about delusional. But it was all a ruse. Amara wasn't there to talk about Castiel at all. No, she was there for Dean. She was there to get laid. 

_Not_ gonna happen.

Dean didn't want to hurt the woman's feelings, but he didn't want to mislead her, either. So he gently shrugged off her advances, zigged when she zagged, and did his best to keep out of her range. But Amara mistook his skittishness for bashfulness, and insisted on staying until he ate what she'd brought. So Dean took a bite of this, and a bite of that, chugged his beer, grew anxious, grew agitated, desperate that she leave, mind fuzzy, heart racing, not thinking straight at all, so when Amara leaned in for a kiss, Dean, well, he kissed her back. 

Amara beamed in triumph and made herself even more comfortable: set the food aside, scooted closer to Dean, touched his cheek, rested her hand on his thigh, lost a layer of clothing, and that's when Dean had to set her straight. About himself anyway, and the fact that he _is_ gay. She was amused, at first, refused to believe him even after he swore to it. But then it finally sank in, and Amara grew angry. Very angry. And offended, very offended, by Dean, by his sexuality, because it's not fair; why are all of the good ones always gay, she argued. But Dean didn't have an answer for that, only that he likes men, not women, and thankfully, that was the deal breaker.

But convincing her took forever, and now it's late. Too damn late. Past midnight, late. And as 'open-minded' as the Novaks claim to be, Dean doubts even they'd permit their underage son to go out at this late hour.

So with a heavy heart and slumped shoulders, Dean stores the leftovers, kills the lights, and heads for the stairs, kicking off his shoes and pulling off his shirt along the way.

Tap, tap, tap

_'Could it be?'_

Tap, Tap, Tap,

"Please, please, please..."

Tap, tap-

Dean races to the door and yanks it so hard he nearly tears it off its hinges. "You came." He gasps, heart in his throat, and Castiel smiles, steps inside, and drops his bag. 

"Of course I did." 

...

It's funny how awkward it feels at first, how they cautiously dance around each other, like any second now, one, or both of them, might implode with want, their hunger for the other, a ravenous beast, a greedy thing impossible to satiated. 

"Baby." The endearment rolls sweetly over Dean's tongue, slides like a physical caress across Castiel's cheek. "It's late." He extends an arm, and Castiel takes it, laces their fingers together and inches closer.

"No." Castiel replies, but he's not talking about the hour. "It's not." A barely there smile, an adorable tilt of his head, he looks around the room, and asks, "What happened to your company?" But Castiel can guess. Still, he wants Dean to know that he's been keeping a sharp eye on his house. 

Dean drops his eyes, blushes all the way to his ears. "You saw her." It's not a question, because it's pretty obvious the boy knows. Heck, from the vantage point of his bedroom window, Dean figures Castiel could probably see _inside_ his whole damn house if he wanted to: the kitchen, the living room, even his bedroom- 

"Wait, have...have you watched, I mean, can you see inside my house from your window?" 

"Yes." Castiel replies, without hesitation, because he won't lie. Not to Dean.

"And-" Dean swallows, licks his lips, "have you looked, I mean, have you watched me?" 

"Ah-" This could be bad: Castiel's constant spying, his monitoring of Dean's every move, it's like stalking, but worse. Dean is a private person, and Castiel has violated that privacy, invaded Dean's home (his friggin bedroom) to fulfill his own lustful needs. 

Yeah, this could be bad.

But nevertheless Castiel nods, presses a firm hand over Dean's heart, and squeezes, feels its jack-rabbit beat against the warm skin of his palm, catches a diamond hard nipple between two fingers, and rolls it, tugs at it, and Dean pounces, wraps the boy in his arms and Castiel grunts, gasps as Dean manhandles him. 

"Did you like what you saw?" Dean growls in the boy's ear, fierce and needy, cupping the back of Castiel's head and kissing him, all tongue, all hands, kneading in broad and powerful strokes down his back.

"Yes." Castiel exhales, because he did like what Dean did to himself. A lot. And has fantasized about Dean doing those same things to him, more times than he can count. "I did like it." He says, holding on, clutching back, touching Dean everywhere he can reach. 

"Heh-" Dean rubs against Castiel, a sexy swivel of hips, "You're nothing but a little 'Peeping Tom', ain'tcha, Cas?" He dips a hand past the elastic of Castiel's shorts, probes between the hot space of his crevice. "You get off watching me stroke my dick?" He asks, finding the boy's hole, teasing the tight furl, and Castiel curses, pumps his hips, and Dean smirks, catches the boy's plump bottom lip between his teeth, and sucks on it. "You touch yourself too, baby? Beat-off wishing it was me sucking your pretty prick?"

Dean inserts a finger, and Castiel whimpers, pushes back, gets Dean's finger deeper, and Dean is done teasing. "Let's go upstairs." He says softly, mouthing the words against Castiel's lips, throwing the boy over his shoulder, and carrying him up the stairs.

...

Dean kicks his bedroom door open and gently places Castiel on the mattress. "Take off your clothes." He says, and Castiel wastes no time, removes his few layers while Dean climbs out of his jeans, peels off his underwear, and the man is so gorgeous (statue perfect) like a Greek god come down from Olympus, his sole purpose to ravage Castiel, to fuck and to claim him, to own him. And Castiel is so aroused, body buzzing with adrenaline, prick so hard it actually aches, weeps at the tip for Dean's touch.

"Lay down." Dean tells him, and Castiel does, props himself on his elbows, and Dean drops down, a lion on all fours, a predator stalking his prey, and Castiel spreads his legs.

"Dean-" Castiel sighs, head falling back when Dean bites the inside of his thigh, choking on air when Dean starts sucking cruelly on the bruised skin. "Please-" he chokes, "stop."

But Dean doesn't; he's having too much fun. "I could live down here and die a happy man." He says instead, nuzzling at the boy's balls, licking his shaft, then sucking him down.

"Please..." Castiel begs, but he grabs Dean by the hair and starts fucking his perfect mouth, bucking and grunting, and Dean sucks and sucks, and the suction is so perfect, too perfect, and Castiel's balls draw tight. "No..." He grits, pulling Dean off, "...stop, stop." 

"You want me to stop?" Dean asks, voice wrecked, lips glossy with spit and pre-cum. "You sure that's what you want?"

"I want you in me." Castiel shoots back, raspy, throaty, husky from screaming so much.

"Okay, sweetheart...okay." Dean climbs up the boy's body, kisses a path towards his face, his own dick dragging deliciously against the boy's skin. "This what you wanted?" He asks, hips pumping, dicks butting.

"Yes-" Castiel says, body wracked with pleasure, reaching for Dean's dick, because if he won't stick it in, then Castiel will gladly do it for him.

But Dean keeps his dick just out of reach, teases, "You sure you want me?" 

"Yes." Castiel snaps, throwing his arms around Dean's shoulders and pulling him down. "Want to cum with you in me." 

"Me?" 

"Yes, you!" Castiel could kill Dean for making him beg this way, but he wouldn't have it any other way. "Come on, Dean, you know I do." 

"Do I?"

"Dean, I swear-"

And maybe Dean is just teasing - playful banter to heighten their experience. But maybe he's not. Maybe he needs to be certain, to believe without a doubt, that Castiel won't be screwing around anymore. "You say that," Dean says, bracing himself on his hands, hovering over Castiel, and gazing down on him, "but from what I saw earlier...well, you sure there's no one else?"

_How can Dean even ask that?'_

Castiel stops his squirming and looks up at Dean. Really looks at him, and his heart aches. "Dean," he says, soft and painfully kind, hand on Dean's jaw, fingers curling around the sharp cut of it, scratching against the grain, and Dean moans, a happy hum, "I'm sorry about all of that. I was just trying to make you jealous." Castiel rubs his foot over Dean's calf, cards his fingers through his cropped hair. "There's no one else but you. Only you."

"That's good." Dean smiles, arms stretched straight, tightly corded muscles flexing, filling the boy's world with his face, with his body, searching Castiel's eyes for a lie, but only finding the truth. "Me too." He says, then they're flush, hips rocking gently, and Castiel grins, relieved, throws his legs around Dean's waist, and locks them together. 

And it feels different now, like it's real now, a serious and mature relationship based on trust, on respect, and their kisses deepen, and their passion spikes. Then Dean coats his fingers with lube, and Castiel spreads his thighs, groans from the sharp burn, from broad fingers breaching, but he's still loose enough from earlier, and the pain ebbs quickly. 

"I'm ready." Castiel whispers, and then Dean pushes in, dick stretching Castiel wide, and Castiel murmurs Dean's name, his pleasure through the roof, and Dean grunts, teeth clenched, jaw tight. But Dean wants to go deeper, so he sits on his haunches, and pulls the boy onto his lap.

"Cas..." He pants, sitting the boy on his dick, spearing him through, and Castiel groans, wraps his arms around Dean's shoulders, and bounces, pulses, and Dean thrusts, fingers squeezing, pulling Castiel's ass-cheeks apart while they fuck, and Castiel cries out, from the pounding, from the delicious drag, thighs quivering, dick rubbing between them, and it's too much, and he bites down, dents Dean shoulder with a painful bite, and cums, shoots his load between them, and Dean curses, growls the boy's name, and his own body locks-up.

"Cas-" Dean grunts, holding the boy still while he spills. And then Castiel feels it, wet heat, a warmth filling every inch of him, and he's never been so full before, so satisfied, that he says it, says _it_ out loud before he can stop himself. 

"Love you-" Castiel swears, because it's true. "I love you." 

"Oh, baby..." Dean reacts like a man possessed, throws Castiel on his back, covers the boy's smaller body with his larger one, and kisses him, over and over. "Love you too." He says, because he does, and it's so sudden, and so powerful, but undeniable, and Dean's never letting him go.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And oh fuck, Castiel couldn't love this man more. With his whole heart and soul, Castiel would do anything for Dean. "Oh yeah." he grins, pushing Dean onto his back, straddling his lap. "you're in for it now, Mr. Winchester."

So warm, so soft and pliable.

"I'm pliable because I can barely move after that last position you had me in."

A loud laugh, big and full of real joy. "Didn't mean to say that out load."

A happy hum, a contended sigh. "Well you did." Strong arms around him, tucking him close, keeping him safe in their cocoon. 

"You hungry?" Dean asks, then laughs again when Castiel buries his face in his neck, and pretends to fall asleep. "Come on," Dean insists, slapping the boy's ass, "it's almost two o'clock and you haven't eaten since nine. Your mom will kill me if I don't provide a healthy lunch for my favorite employee."

Castiel huffs, groans, "Fine." And reluctantly untangles himself from his lover's embrace. But instead of hopping out of bed, he lays flat on his back, and stretches, lithe, feline, and graceful. "You know," he says a minute later, sitting up to check his reflection in the large floor-to-ceiling-mirror propped against a far wall, "I'm glad you bought that mirror." 

"Of course I bought it." Dean replies, dragging a hand down the boy's spine. "It's perfect." A warm kiss on narrow hips, a nip on tender skin. "Just like every other piece of furniture you told me to buy." Another kiss, and Castiel turns, faces Dean, and Dean leans over, exhales over the boy's prick, a gust of heated breath, and Castiel grows hard. "It's all perfect." Dean says, hushed, lips pursed over the damp head. "Just like you." 

And oh fuck, Castiel couldn't love this man more. With his whole heart and soul, Castiel would do anything for Dean. "Oh yeah." he grins, pushing Dean onto his back, straddling his lap. "you're in for it now, Mr. Winchester." 

"Is that so?" Dean grins back, bucking his hips and unbalancing Castiel. But then Dean checks the clock on his nightstand, and stills. "Baby, come on, you need to eat okay. Hop off." 

But Castiel locks his thighs and doesn't budge. He swivels his hips instead, a sexy grind, an erotic little lap-dance, and maybe lunch can wait, after all. "Cas-" Dean sighs, strong hands holding Castiel by the hip, hard dick poking him in the ass, "you're gonna be the death of me." He swears, spreading the boy's cheeks, feeling for his hole, then slipping into glorious wet heat. 

An hour later, a ravenous Castiel eats every bite of his lunch.

...

Castiel stands in front of his bedroom window, freshly showered, naked, cock half hard, then throws on his work clothes when he spots Dean pulling into the driveway. He thunders down the stairs, tool bag cradled safely in his arms, barrels towards the front door, when...

"Cassie?"

Castiel screeches to a stop, stares wide eyed at his mother. "Yes?"

"Why aren't you at work?"

Castiel tugs at his henley, points at the dried plaster stains, at the myriad of paint spatters dotting it in a kaleidoscope of colors. "I came here for a change of clothes." He answers, eyes narrowed. "You know, for work. It's not like I'm just hanging out over at Mr. Winchester's house doing nothing while he does everything. Okay. I work hard too. Really hard actually." He fans his hand, shows her his callouses, "I mean, I've been going over there, _without missing a day_ , since last summer, and now I can't even take a minute to make sure I don't ruin my school clothes without you-"

"Okay, okay." Amelia throws her hands up, huffs, "No need to get defensive, honey. I didn't mean to upset you. I just never see you until after dark, anymore." And it's true. Castiel has his own key to Dean's house and always heads there right after school, rarely making it back to his own house until way past dark.

Except for today. 

Today Castiel is running late, and has fallen off his usual schedule. But it's for a good reason. The most important reason, really. Because today he met with his school councilor, and together, they prepared Castiel's application for an internship as a 'building engineer' at 'Winchester and Sons'.

"I just thought," Amelia exhales, shakes her head, embarrassed with herself, "I guess I thought you were home because Dean had-"

"Fired me?" Castiel rolls his eyes, arms crossed, foot tapping, disappointed at his mother. "Thanks for the show of confidence, mom." 

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. That was wrong of me. You've been so good lately and so responsible. And I've never seen you so...engaged, so focused, and Dean just thinks the world of you." She throws her arms around her son's shoulders, squeezes, holds him at arm's length, and beams, eyes glassy. "We're just so proud of you."

Castiel allows the fawning, hugs his mother back, but he really needs to leave; he can't wait to share his exciting news with Dean. "Thanks mom." 

"Go on then." She tells him, and Castiel nods, carefully picks up his tool bag (he needs to be gentle with it, or he might damage the glass plug he plans on inserting after he and Dean fuck) and with measured steps, and his heart beating a frantic beat - a swarm of butterflies doing their damnedest to escape through his throat - Castiel walks out of his house, and heads home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it. Another Dean/Castiel fuck-fest (it's how I roll) 
> 
> Thoughts?


End file.
